Art of Life
by Fey2Kim
Summary: The best killers say they know 17 ways to kill a person. Well, Leona knows 18. A/U fic. Leona is assigned to kill a computer hacker but finds love along the way.
1. Prologue

Click. The knob twists and opens the door.

Click. The sound of the stereo being turned on.

Click. The whir of the CD.

_ Tell me why  
Tell me why  
Tell me why the wind is so cold  
Take my heart inside your love _

Click. A blue-haired female enters a lonely kitchen. She drops her keys on the counter and opens the refrigerator door. Scanning the white racks for something to eat, she selects a box of old Chinese take-out.

_   
Tell me why   
Tell me why   
Tell me why I feel so blue   
Tell me why   
Tell me why I love you _

She slurps up a bit of the lo-mien and looks out her window. She lives on the second floor. Bustling streets underneath. Rain falling from above. Blazing red hair passes by. It catches her attention. She drops her food and immediately rushes out of her apartment.

_   
My love for you would break my heart   
No, No, No   
No way to change my heart   
I still wanna be in the endless blue verse _

Out on the sidewalk, there is nothing. She looks left and right of her. Only gray people in gray coats and gray umbrellas. Lack of color. No red.

_   
I feel so blue in this white poem   
Love will find the way   
This is the line you used to love   
Do you still believe that?   
While I'm away, read this line again... _

Dejected, she returns to her apartment.


	2. Chapter 1

My name is Leona Heidern, and I am an officer of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I'm 24 years old. I've been in the FBI for seven years. Strange, isn't it? My joining when I was only 18.

It's strange to me too, but I guess that when you grow up with a high-ranking officer as your father, it isn't too surprising to follow in his footsteps.

They call upon me to do most of the "toughest jobs", as they call it. I am, supposedly, their best officer. Best officer at killing, at least. That's what I am. A professional killer. 

I am "the best of the best". Others know 17 ways to kill a person. I know 18.

Recently, I've been assigned to take down a computer hacker. Iri is her name. Apparently, she has been hacking into our files and selling them on the black market.

Tch...

It's a your typical case. A fat, disgruntled person with great talent decides that the best way to use his or her intelligence is to piss off the FBI.

Not very intelligent, in my opinion.

You're wondering why they'd send a me to kill a typical hacker. 

According to the records, she is no typical hacker. She has sold valuable information to terrorists, enemy nations and even the couple down the street from me. She needs to be taken down, _now_.

They say I have a completely different personality when I fight. I personally don't see any difference. Aren't I always obedient, quick and efficient? Look at me. My eyes are always cold and piercing, no? They always seem emotionless.

What the hell are "they" smoking?

Sigh. Who knows...

I haven't had much progress so far; Iri is far too elusive. My co-workers are not much help, either. Ralf and Clark spend their time gambling and drinking. All brawn and no brains, I suppose. It's a wonder that they are one of the best.

However, in spite of their endless childishness, they are good people to work with. I share a relationship with both that I doubt anyone else has.

Whether that is a good thing, I do not know.

Here all three of us are, sitting inside my ramshackle excuse of an apartment. Clark and Ralf are watching "Miss Congeniality". I sit in front of my laptop browsing some random sites with Winamp playing "1000 no Kotoba".

Ralf yells: "Aww, come on, "Gracie Lou Freebush!" Sport that bikini already!"

I roll my eyes and look at the DVD case. Sandra Bullock smiles in her hot pink dress. I have a dress like that. I've never worn it though. I toss the case away.

Clark asks: "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing. Just some sites."

Clark shrugs, turns around and helps Ralf cheer on "Gracie".

A bee, a whir, and my hard-drive implodes.

I jump back, knocking down my chair.

Ralf screams: "What the fuck?"

What the fuck, indeed. That is the last time I go to an Athena fanpage.

Before my screen goes blank, a pop-up... pops up. It reads:

"You have been discovered. Please go away now."

Iri.

My laptop reboots itself, all of a sudden okay. Ralf and Clark near me.

Clark: "Think she may be onto us?"

But of course. The laptop resumes itself as if nothing happened.

"Athena: Queen of the Music World?" reads Ralf. "What the hell are you looking at?"

I draw my gun from its holster. Ralf backs away, thinking that I'm about to shoot him. I won't. Though, I do happen to consider the option.

Pointing at my laptop, I pull my trigger.

"She's onto us."


	3. Chapter 2

What I know about Iri so far:

* Iri is female from what we've gathered.  
* Iri loves hotdogs and summer nights in Montana.  
* Iri also loves to make money.  
* Iri sells info to the highest bidder.  
* Iri has given to crime organizations, terrorist rings and Enron-wannabes.  
* Iri is fluent in l33t.  
* Iri loves to work in Arizona, in the desert areas.  
* Iri has six boyfriends, identities unconfirmed.  
* Iri is widowed.  
* Iri loves to play monopoly with real money.  
* Iri loves to read Romeo and Juliet.  
* Iri often leaves trails to mislead her trackers.  
* Iri wears Shiseido's "Mauve Breeze" and Chanel's "Tornado".  
* Iri likes to dress stylishly. Her color palette consists of dark blue, red, brown and black.  
* Iri collects seashells, stuffed animals and out-dated computers.  
* Iri has a brother named Iori Yagami. 

Well. I guess I'll start from there.

  
  
----------  
Don't worry. The story is not all _that _straightforward. Jeez..... 


End file.
